Awaiting Advent in a New Way

Angie says I'm sleeping for two now. I really appreciate her encouragement to nap more, and she may be onto something... Since this almost-four-pound wiggle worm rarely seems to sleep himself, I better sleep for him too.

As the squirming of the son we've yet to meet continues to increase, and we start to see my belly dance like a bowl full of jelly, I'm sometimes reminded of Santa this holiday season, but much more often I'm reminded of baby Jesus. And the one whose experience I am resonating with like never before is Mary. 

"I feel your heart beating

Inside my own skin

And I think of Mary

In Bethlehem" 

-Six Pence None the Richer, Last Christmas

I've heard people say that Christmas carols took on a whole new meaning when they became a Christian and started to actually hear the story in the lyrics. For me, the new awareness isn't of the shepherds, or the angels, or the wise men and their awe of the Baby God, but of Mary and her remarkable journey as He lived and grew inside her body.

How far did she really ride on that donkey at 9 months pregnant? I mean we're talking zero back support for days on a bouncy wobbly creature, when she could probably barely balance her new center of gravity on solid ground. And if she wasn't having contractions when she started that jarring ride, I suspect they were in full force by the time it came to an overdue end.

My dear traditional husband is not quite ready for us to try a home birth, so I can't imagine how he'd react to my suggesting a stable. However, at the rate I'm drinking gallons of milk these days, it might be nice to have a cow on hand. Also, as we're gathering lions and lambs to decorate our nursery, it sure would be lovely to have a real lamb or two to complete the collection. If a manger was good enough for the King of Kings, it's more than enough for our baby boy.

As Angie plays Mary Did You Know on repeat, the well known song has beautiful significance to me now.

"And when you kiss your little baby, you have kissed the face of God"

"The sleeping child you're holding is the great I Am"

And although I can't relate to Mary holding heaven's perfect Lamb, other familiar song lyrics are more familiar than ever.

"Then He smiled at me, pa rum pum pum pum" 

-Little Drummer Boy 

"What child is this, who laid to rest

On Mary's lap is sleeping" 
-What Child is This

"And the first breath that left your lips

Did you know that it would change this world forever"  

-Relient K, I Celebrate the Day

Although, our new addition will not be the Savior of All, I can't help but sit in wonder at the truth that his first breath will change this world forever. And I can only pray that his impact on this earth will be a reflection of the love of the other Infant we're so eagerly awaiting this Christmas.

Whether you're expecting in the pregnant sense of the word, or anticipating the celebration of the birth of Christ in two days, I hope you are finding beauty, awe, and wonder in the little things; the song lyrics, the sparkling lights, the simple pleasures of generosity and family togetherness, and the story of the newborn Christ's miraculous entrance into the world.

Because For King and Country says it so well, 

"Endless hope and relentless joy started with a Baby Boy" 

From a Fetus to a Newborn; the First Cry

I heard a baby cry in church yesterday, actually there were a lot of unhappy babies, but it was that first one that got my attention. I imagine infants have outbursts during almost every service, but this one little cry, so frantic and upset, startled me as I sat with my own silent son squirming in my belly. It awakened me into the reality, that soon, in a matter of mere weeks or months, Zy, our peaceful fetus, will be jolted from his own tranquil existence. That someday, this contented child will also cry and fuss, and be deliriously upset. 

I'm sure I knew this already, I must have thought about the first time he'll cry. But I hadn't thought about the fact that he's never cried before. This little guy, nearly as whole as the rest of us, just tinier and possibly cuter, has never known anything but serenity. What is the difference between his world and that of the newborn just a few days older than him wailing with panic just down the aisle?

The difference is not their number of days of development. If Zy comes today he will likely cry within minutes, if he comes in three months he'll do the same. Until then, however, he will remain as happy as a clam shelled up in my womb, twirling around banging into the walls that even as they encroach on his space, bring him comfort and security. Because every single one of his needs and desires is being met and has always been met. 

There are so many reasons that baby who was crying might have been distressed. She may have been hungry. She may have been cold or possibly too warm. She might have had a wet diaper or maybe a stomachache. She could have been frightened. She could have been overly tired. Or maybe she was just lonely...

For all of his nearly seven months, Zy has had every one of those needs met 24 hours a day. He has yet to want for anything. He's been fed so well he's never known hunger. His atmosphere has been kept at the perfect temperature such that he's never known a chill. He's been bedded down so luxuriously, padded between the pillows of my placenta and bladder that he's likely never had an itch and never felt pain. He amuses himself with somersaults and his umbilical cord so nicely that he's probably never even experienced boredom. As he rests and grows without the nuisance of diapers and clothing, his environment is the most hospitable anyone could ever ask for. Always right with me, next to my heart, he's never even known what it's like to be alone.

In Unwrapping the Greatest Gift, Ann Voskamp beautifully captures the difference between that newborn's fear and baby Zy's flawless trust,

"All fear comes from thinking that somewhere God's love will end." 

Zy will soon come into this outside world and learn what each one of us has decided for ourselves; that there is something to be afraid of, that God will let us down.

That first little squeal we'll hear from him, as the air touches his body, will be a bittersweet moment. A joyous occasion as we're reassured that his lungs can do their job and he can survive on the outside. But also a sad reminder that he too has believed the lie that God's love will end. And he, like the rest of us, will spend much of the rest of his life trying to unlearn that untruth, and remember how to be anxious for nothing and rely on Jesus to meet his every need.

Oh how I hope to be as competent a mother when this precious little one is no longer "safe" in my womb. But I recognize that, inevitably, I will fail to satisfy him many times. It's so reassuring to know that his Heavenly Father will never fail him...

Philippians 4:6-8

Making a List

Making a List...
Checking it Twice...
Gonna Find out Who's Naughty or Nice...

We're not a Santa family. I mean we don't go around saying "Bah Humbug" or anything, but we're just really clear that Santa and his paraphernalia is not the true reason for the season. So clear in fact, that when I came home from Dollar Tree with a few rolls of wrapping paper the other day Angie asked, "Why does this one have Santa on it?" Well, cause it also has little Rubys (translation: yellow lab puppies) on it, so how could I resist?

But the longer I live with a motivationally-challenged tweenager, the more respect I gain for whoever came up with the idea of using a sleigh full of toys for all the good girls and boys as a motivator to keep children in line for a few of the dreariest months.

Here is a moment we shared this afternoon:
Angie arrived home from school, shouted gleefully that she had no homework for the weekend, answered my questions about her vocab test, and chatted with me briefly. As the conversation died down I asked her to go upstairs, get dressed for conditioning, pack her clothes for tennis this evening, spending the night at the grandparents, and basketball tomorrow; to which I usually receive a multitude of groans, rebuttals, and eventually feet drug up the stairs in the most reluctant compliance possible. 

But this time, because of her no homework declaration, I was able to add 7 magic words to the end of my list of requests, "and then you can watch some videos." She squealed ecstatically and ran up the stairs to return, bags packed and hair fixed, in a mere 7 minutes, a task which would usually have taken at least half an hour and much cajoling on my part.

This is a lesson I've struggled to come to grips with. At bedtime, if we ask Angie to go get ready for bed, it takes between 20-35 minutes for her to brush her teeth, put on her PJs, and use the restroom, usually because she's stopped in front of the mirror to try out 5-15 new hairstyles in passing. If, however, we put it this way, "Angie if you get ready for bed  in 5 minutes, we'll have time to watch an episode of the Cosby Show," she will return in 3 minutes flat, sprinting down the steps like a track star.

The alternative is just as true. For the past almost 4 years, we've been using a behavior chart to determine her allowance, with a special treat for a "perfect" week. A few weeks ago she came home from school asking for a new sweatshirt. Good parents probably just buy their kids clothes when needed, but we make ours earn hers.  So, we said, how 'bout three good weeks and we'll buy you the sweatshirt; she agreed. However, we were in the middle of a week, which had already been less than perfect, so Angie continued with a rotten attitude for the next couple days. "Don't you want that sweatshirt?" I asked hoping to pull her out of her sassy disrespectful demeanor. "Yeah, but I have to wait till a new week to start getting that." And it struck me that our child, with no tangible carrot dangling in front of her nose, is a pretty unpleasant human being. Since then, for the past three weeks, she's been nearly an angel, but for those couple days in limbo between bribes, she was awful. That's who she really is when we're not paying her to behave??

So, as much as I want her to be a nice person because it's the right thing to do, because she has character, because Jesus is, I'm willing to slump to holding anything we can think of over her head in order to keep the peace, until maybe she learns that life really is a lot more fun when everyone's getting along. And maybe if the incentive comes from without long enough, it will eventually come from within.

After all, in the third trimester of pregnancy I really don't have any room to judge. I can barely muster my own motivation to get out of bed in the morning (or afternoon), change out of my husband's sweatpants, or cook anything fancier than grilled cheese and canned soup for dinner.

As adults, we rarely work in such obvious transactional models, but are we really much more motivated from within? Some of our stimuli for good behavior are tangible like paychecks, but many are much subtler like guilt, a sense of duty, and others' opinions of us. 

Ultimately, the best reason for being a "nice" person is only that God has extended us more grace, love, forgiveness, and kindness, than we could ever extend to anyone else. We've been given so much, if we allow His love to fill us, we'll be helpless to do anything but overflow into others. As one of Angie's primary examples of God's grace, I have all the more motivation to let His light shine through me, in hopes that she'll grow into her own imperfect reflection of Christ's unconditional love. 

Which, of course, is the true reason for the season...

"You are blessed! You get to bless! This is happiness!" 

-Unwrapping the Greatest Gift, Ann Voskamp